A potato can have no finer fate than ending up as an Irish crisp
There is a joy in saving foods, however quotidian, for particular times and places
WHAT IS nirvana for a potato? To be sliced and slivered and bathed in boiling oil before emerging as a French fry? To have its weight matched in butter and cream and be transformed into glorious mounds of mash? No. The answer is found in a plastic bag. For a potato, there is no nobler fate than to end up in a packet of Tayto cheese-and-onion crisps.
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This article appeared in the Culture section of the print edition under the headline “To everything there is a season”
Culture June 17th 2023
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From the June 17th 2023 edition
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